


In a Bayport Wonderland

by Justice_Turtle (Curuchamion)



Category: Hardy Boys - Franklin W. Dixon
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-20
Updated: 2011-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-27 14:23:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/296791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Curuchamion/pseuds/Justice_Turtle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oh no! The Hardys are trapped indoors without a mystery to solve! A little interlude between unspecified books.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In a Bayport Wonderland

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Alashandra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alashandra/gifts).



> Many thanks to Meneleth for an excellent fandom beta, and to Jessalae for help with Spanish!

"Professor Plum in the parlor with a lead pipe," said Joe, popping his _p_ 's explosively. "You know, Frank, this is kind of boring." He laid down his cards, propped his chin in his hands, and stared across the gameboard at his older brother.

Frank shrugged. "What do you want to do - toast marshmallows? It's kind of hard to find a new mystery to solve when you're snowbound."

Joe rolled over on his back - they were both lying sprawled on the floor with the Clue board in front of the living-room fireplace - and stared out the big picture window, watching the "worst blizzard in recent Bayport history!" swirl outside. "We could go outside and practice tracking each other's mysterious footprints in the snow, I guess?" He didn't sound very enthusiastic.

"And then some crazy gang consisting of snowmobile-driving smugglers will bop you on the head and I'll have to hunt them down in order to get you back. And incidentally break up the smuggling ring along the way. Probably take a trip to Alaska. Seems like a lot of work to go to, just to have a good excuse to drink hot chocolate," Frank drawled cheerfully.

Joe snorted. "It'd probably be more fun than sitting around here doing nothing. I'd almost rather be knocked on the head." He twisted around to send his brother a wry grin. "I know what, though. Why can't _you_ get hit on the head for once and _I'll_ do the rescuing?"

"We've done that," Frank said. "I forget when, but we've done it."

"We could do it again."

Frank didn't bother to answer that, and they were silent for several minutes.

"We could take up a new hobby," Joe suggested at last. "Usually when we do that, we're neck-deep in a mystery within a week."

"Or we could work on one of our _old_ hobbies," Frank pointed out. "Cross-country skiing, for instance. Fingerprint identification. Spanish."

"Buenos días, señor," Joe retorted sarcastically. "¿Podría Usted decirme dónde encontrar un misterio sin resolver?"

Frank laughed. "Okay, so we don't actually need the practice. What hobby were you thinking of taking up?"

Joe shrugged and looked around the room for inspiration. His mother's mending basket caught his eye.

"We could learn to knit!" he suggested cheerfully. "And then even if it doesn't get us into a new mystery, we'll have another useful skill at our disposal... s. Disposals."

"Useful for what?" Frank asked, chuckling. "'Ah yes, Watson, this man was killed by being strangled with rare woollen yarn sold only in Montana.' That sort of useful?"

Joe laughed too. "Maybe. But even if it never comes in handy for detecting--" his blue eyes sparkled mischievously--"we can knit Aunt Gertrude tacky sweaters for Christmas next year!"


End file.
